


I’m Trying My Best, It’s Never Enough

by ILovedHerAndSometimesSheLovedMeToo



Series: I Used to Hear a Simple Song (Until you came along) [1]
Category: Raya and the Last Dragon (2021)
Genre: Angst, Basically just me exploring the darker aspects of Raya and The Last Dragon, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Exploring Kumandra, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Namaari loves her anyways, Namaari tries her best, Pre-Canon, Raya centric, Raya is a little chaotic, Raya loves her kingdom, Slow Burn, Survival, This girl was just alone in the woods, for 6 yEARS, seriously, this is a romance i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-26 19:34:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILovedHerAndSometimesSheLovedMeToo/pseuds/ILovedHerAndSometimesSheLovedMeToo
Summary: Raya clenches the painting between trembling hands and starts to piece together a plan. She’s still the princess of Heart. Still the guardian of the dragon gem. Still her Ba’s daughter. Even if it takes the rest of her life, she swears she’ll bring back her people, bring him back too.And as for Namaari...She’ll never forgive her.But when she pictures her sharp features, the way her silken hair had rested against her narrow shoulder, how her eyes had sparkled as they fangirled about dragons together, she ignores the part of herself that already has.OrWe explore thehorrificimplications of a 12-year-old living alone in the world after losing virtually everyone she's ever loved. And, oh yeah, there's a deadly plague.
Relationships: Benja & Raya (Disney), Namaari & Raya (Disney), Namaari & Virana (Disney), Namaari/Raya (Disney), Raya & Tuk Tuk, Raya & pain
Series: I Used to Hear a Simple Song (Until you came along) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215761
Comments: 85
Kudos: 189





	1. Heartless

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. So I loved Raya and the Last Dragon so much it's unbelievable. I'm a sucker for angst and world-building, and I also think it's crazy that the movie just glossed over the fact that this 12-year-old visited hundreds of rivers on a quest to try and bring her Dad back to life on literally nothing but a story she got from another 12-year-old girl at a dinner party. 
> 
> Like.... 
> 
> But anyways, I loved Raya's character and Raya x Namaari is my current obsession. Thus, this fic was born. I tried to incorporate as much Filipino, Vietnamese, and just generally southeast Asian culture into this, but if I made a mistake with something, please please please let me know. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The first thing Raya felt was the cold. It bit at her fingers, chilled her to her very bone. She’s not sure if it’s the frigid water that’s so quickly leeching away at her strength or if any last trace of warmth had simply been turned to stone by the Druun when it had ruthlessly stolen her _Ba_.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been floating, just that her course had been left to the whims of the currents and it took everything she had just to keep herself afloat. But, almost as strong as her fear in that moment is a darker feeling. 

There’s something almost… _satisfying_ about the way the water burns her throat, her eyes, her nose. The way her arms strain at the task of keeping her head above water and Tuk Tuk from getting swept away. 

It feels almost like penance. Like atonement. 

She remembers when she was younger, when she was first learning to use the _Arnis_ , how she used to practice for hours on end to master the movements. She remembers the feelings of _bitterness_ and _fear_ and _failure_ and _nevergoingtobegoodenough_ that coursed through her when she would lose to the other children in a practice spar or stumble during a spin kick. 

If only those small inadequacies had been the extent of her absolute failure as a guardian. Because absolutely nothing could compare to the merciless, burning feeling of guilt coursing through her right now. 

In the same week she had been made a _real, official_ guardian of the dragon gem, she had led an enemy right into her people’s most sacred cavern. Her actions had led to her father’s injury, the return of the Druun, and the petrification of hundreds, if not _thousands_ of people. 

And all for what? Because she wanted a friend? Because of a stupid, onesided crush on a stupid, selfish (beautiful) _binturi_. 

She feels her grip on the stone start to loosen, hears Tuk Tuk begin to wheeze at the strain of having swam for so long, and she knows she has to leave the river soon. 

Still, a part of her wants to cling to this feeling, this pain. A part of her just wants to get swept away into the dark and just dissolve into one of the hundreds of river-tails like Sisudatu. 

Except Sisudatu had been a hero, and Raya was nothing like her at all.

The indigo hues of twilight have long since faded into the suffocating darkness of night. The only source of light comes from the piece of gem that is currently tucked into the folds of her shirt. Still, she keeps her eyes on the river bank until finally she spots an empty enough space for her to swim to. 

As she climbs onto the sand, making sure that Tuk Tuk is right behind her, she takes a look around to try and figure out where she is. 

She and her _Ba_ had spent countless days walking along the river’s edge, telling stories, searching for fish, training together. She almost smiles at the memories before—

_“Raya, don’t give up on them… I love you”_

_And then she’s falling and falling and it feels like everything is moving so slowly and how is she still_ —

She feels a sharp nip at her finger and looks down to see Tuk Tuk, glancing up at her, concern shining in his kind eyes. She gives what she hopes is a reassuring smile back, and then stands to get a better look around. After a couple of moments, she realizes that she’s about a half a day’s journey away from her kingdom. 

_‘You mean the kingdom you destroyed’_ whispers a harsh voice in her head. 

Raya takes a look at the sky and decides that the sandy plot will have to do for tonight. First thing come sunrise, she’ll go back home and try to find someone, anyone, she knows. 

With the way the Druun had swept through her tribe, however, she’s not too hopeful. Still, it’s her job to try and help as many of her people as possible since… since her father can’t. 

She curls into a ball along the edge of the water, places the gem beneath her soaked shirt, and settles in for what will become one of many cold, sleepless nights. 

* * *

By the time she makes it back to Heart, the sun has just begun to signal mid-day. Usually, she would be practicing her sword skills with General Diwa by now or sneaking into the kitchen to steal a cookie from Eeya, the only chef that would let her hang around the food for longer than a minute or two.

Now, as she walks through the deserted hallways, staring at statue after statue of her fellow villagers, she can’t help but wonder what they would say to her now. 

Would her classmates turn away from her, disgusted by what she had done to them. 

Would Diwa sneer at her, call her the worst guardian she had ever trained. 

What would her father say? 

She reaches the last room in her journey, the war room. Here is where she knows most of her people would have gathered once the other tribes began to scatter. 

No one had expected a 500-year-old plague to return tonight. When the flare went off and her father rushed away, her people would have been expecting a battle. The children would have been sent to hide, and all the warriors would have retreated here to await orders from her father. 

What they got instead was a slaughter. A fight with an enemy no sword or crossbow could slay. 

Raya wonders how long they waited until they either escaped, or the purple fog of the Druun found them first. 

Sucking in a breath of resolve, she grits her teeth and pushes open the doors. 

_‘Oh,’_ She was wrong before. It wasn’t the Druun returning or the sight of her father turning to stone before her eyes that had stolen the last traces of warmth from her. It was this. 

Her eyes glisten with pooling tears. She doesn’t know what she expected, but somehow the sight of hundreds of her people, solemn faced, scattered around the room, was beyond anything she could have imagined. 

When she looks up at them, she knows the judgement she sees in their eyes is just her imagination. 

It doesn’t make it any less real. 

She has never heard a silence so _loud_ before. It’s less something she understands, and more something she feels. This overwhelming sense of wrongness. She hears a strangled sob come from somewhere in the room and she frantically looks around, searching, straining for any sight of it. If she can just find someone, _anyone_. As she stumbles around, the sob becomes more frantic, louder, more strangled. She can hear Tuk Tuk rolling beside her in worry but right now all she’s focused on is just finding that voice if she can just find where it’s coming from—

With a frantic turn, she finds herself in front of a gleaming shield. Tears streaming down her face, eyes wide, chest heaving rapidly. There’s a moment of confusion, quickly overcome with understanding. 

There was no other voice. Because she’s alone. She’s alone. Her mother is gone, she died years ago when she gave birth to her. Diwa is gone, Raya found her body outside the throne room. Tala is gone, she found her classmate’s statue next to her mother Althea, the woman who taught her how to catch dragonflies at night. Anyone who’s left has scattered into other villages. And she knows where her father is. 

This devastating feeling of loneliness clings to her like sludge, makes her steps feel heavy as she leaves the room and walks aimlessly through what was her home. Somehow, she ends up back in the great hall. 

The polished jade walls, the towering ceiling and ornate gold accents that once filled her with pride now just spark a pang of longing. Plates of food are overturned and shattered along the ground, serving bowls of dango and platters of rice growing cold along the ground. 

She walks through the space, head down, eyes avoiding the sight of all the people who weren’t lucky enough to escape. 

Each footstep rings hollow against the marble floors until she reaches a familiar plate of stew and rice. She pauses, simply staring at a wooden and paper scroll, still left unrolled on the ground. 

With shaky hands, she reaches down and grasps it. The rendition of Sisudatu and the creation of the gem, her noble sacrifice, remains pristine. The story, laid out in paint from hundreds of years ago, almost seems to mock her. As if it knows that she is holding the shattered remains of the stone against her sternum, the remains of a sacred sacrifice.

She stares at it for a few seconds, devoid of any thought, any feeling at all. Just empty, heart as hard as the remains of her people, until… 

_Rage_

A tsunami of anger and hate and bitterness nearly knocks her to the ground as she thinks about the girl who she trusted, the girl who betrayed her. _Namaari._ She’s just as much to blame for all of this as Raya is. While Raya had been too trusting, too stupid, Namaari had been cruel, had been trecherous. 

Raya clenches the painting between tightly clasped hands and starts to piece together a plan. She’s still the princess of heart. Still the guardian of the dragon gem. Still her Ba _’_ s daughter. Even if it takes the rest of her life, she swears she’ll bring back her people, bring _him_ back too.

And as for Namaari...

She’ll never forgive her. 

But when she pictures her sharp features, the way her silken hair rested against her narrow shoulder, how her eyes sparkled as they fangirled about dragons together, she ignores the part of herself that already has.

* * *

She wakes up early in her room the next morning, robotically changing out of the still damp clothing she had slept in the night before. It isn’t until she’s untying the knotted green fabric that she realizes she’s still wearing the dress from that night. 

_‘Dressy or casual’ A confident smirk and a teasing lilt to her voice._

_‘Only a monster would choose to wear this outfit on the regular.’ Raya shoots back. Namaari giggles and she can’t help the flutter in her chest at the sound._

Raya shakes her head, hoping to toss away the memories like the grains of sand still clinging to her braids. When she catches her own gaze in her room mirror, she can hardly recognize the girl looking back. Abruptly, her sight drops, and she focuses on the corner of her desk as she finishes changing and undoing her hair. 

She tries to ignore the wave of disgust that had flared up at the sight of herself, tries to ignore the way she can’t find the spark in her eyes that her Ba used to preen about to anyone who would listen. 

She puts on a simple outfit before realizing that she has no idea how to do her signature hairstyle. For years, her father’s careful hands had combed through the wavy locks into three even ponytails. She had tried to do it herself many times, but she could never quite master it. 

Her father had promised to teach her one day. 

For now, she leaves it down. She doesn’t have much energy for anything else. 

When it’s finally time to leave, she packs a small bag filled with necessities only: food, a change of clothes, some jade pieces, Fang’s relic scroll, a map, and the things she’ll need if she has any hope of connecting to the spirit of Sisudatu. She straps her father’s sword to her back, and the weight settles heavily atop her shoulders. 

When she stands to leave, she sees the bright gleam of the Sisudatu necklace she had been gifted. Immediately, she reaches down and snatches it from the floor where it had landed and is ready to toss it from her window and out into the garden. She winds back her arm, shoulder tense, but before she can let go… she stops. 

_‘From one dragon nerd to another’ Namaari’s palm is so soft against her own._

Raya doesn’t know what holds her back in that moment, but with an annoyed grunt she tosses the jewelry into her bag as well. She reaches down to Tuk Tuk, scratching his shell gently, before grabbing a bag of snacks for him. 

“Alright buddy,” she kneels and pulls him close to her, “from now on it’s just gonna be you and me. I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine. Ok?” 

He chirps back an affirmative and his unconditional love is enough to curl her lips into the closest semblance of a smile she can manage right now. 

With a steadying breath, she stands, and with a map clutched into one hand and the pale blue light of hope in the other, she leaves Heart behind.


	2. A World Apart (Is Much Smaller Than It Seems)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks so much for everyone who dropped a kudos or a review or even just took the time to read the first chapter. I hope you all enjoy this one as well!

For days, Raya and Tuk Tuk journey away from Heart and towards the river’s end closest to them. As time goes by, she learns to sleep sitting up, her back to a tree or a hill, and Tuk Tuk curled into her palm for warmth. 

It’s rough. Rougher than she’s used to at least. Life in Heart had been as close to perfect as probably exists, and as the daughter of the Chief, she had not wanted for much. Sure she had trained, drilled day in and day out to become a skilled warrior, but nothing she had ever experienced could compare to this. 

The frigid sleepless nights that left her shivering. The scorching sun in the daylight that slowly burnt every bit of exposed skin. The pangs of hunger that came from having to ration her already limited supplies. The aching of her feet from the endless march towards the first stop in her journey. 

Still, it’s nothing she doesn’t deserve. 

If anything, she feels worse for Tuk Tuk, so used to life inside the palace and all the lychee nuts he could eat. 

They play games together sometimes to pass the time. When the weight of her task feels too heavy, or the cuts and bruises she’s accumulated begin to sting just a little too much, Tuk Tuk will stop rolling to instead tap against her feet. Then, she’ll sit down, rest, and try to guess the different things he attempts to draw in the dirt. 

Those moments are some of the few that still bring her joy. She prefers not to wonder about what might have happened if something had happened to Tuk Tuk that night. 

If the current had separated the two in the river. 

If Namaari had stomped instead of kicked. 

She never stays in any place for more than a few hours. Step by step, endless day by endless day, she works her way towards the first river-tail near her. In the beginning, she stays away from the scattered homes along the riverside, more comfortable working through her rations and staying alone than relying on the kindness of strangers. 

When she reaches the first river’s end, she can’t help the bubbles of hope that rise in her core, shooting electric tingles down to her fingertips. Even though she’s been trying to keep clean by washing in the stream whenever she can, she can’t seem to rid herself of the grime that still manages to cling to her clothes, under her nails, against her jaw. She still hasn’t managed to do anything besides a simple braid with her hair, and even that became difficult after she broke her only comb. 

Raya _really_ hopes Sisudatu doesn’t mind the mess. 

By the time she has everything set up for the ceremony, her skin is practically buzzing as she kneels down and lights the first flower. She almost forgets to remove her shoes, quickly kicking them off to set aside. 

“What if this is it buddy! _Toi_ what if we actually are about to meet a dragon!” For the first time in a week, she can feel herself start to hope, and as she speaks, Tuk Tuk begins to chirp excitedly. 

She takes a calming breath, but that spark still glows softly behind her sternum as she centers herself. 

As she begins the sacred chants, she lets her mind drift to the countless days she and her Ba had spent together reciting them. If she kept her eyes shut tight enough, it was almost as if he was kneeling down right next to her. When she finishes the ceremony, she waits with bated breath for something to happen. 

Anything. 

After a few too many silent minutes, she begins to panic. 

_‘Maybe I said the prayer wrong! Maybe this isn’t actually the right place! Maybe I was supposed to bring an offering!’_

_‘Maybe Sisudatu won’t respond to the girl that wrecked the world in the first place.’_

She tunes out the last thought and cracks open an eye. Nothing has changed. No mystical dragon is waiting for her. 

“Well,” she turns to Tuk Tuk, “we knew it was a long shot. I mean what were the chances of this working on our first try. Guess we’ll just have to keep going!” Her eyes are closed as she smiles at him, but she can still feel his disappointment. 

He was just as excited as she was, and his feeling of dismay cuts into her as she gets over her own breaking heart. 

In that moment she promises to keep her hope buried so deep not even she knows how to find it. Afterall, he doesn’t deserve to feel this heartbroken every time they check a river. That’s just a burden she’ll have to carry herself. 

* * *

She spends the next year checking every river around Heart. She uses the jade she has to buy food when her supply runs low, but otherwise she and Tuk Tuk remain virtually alone. 

From time to time, she’ll return to her tribe. Sometimes to see if anyone has returned. Sometimes to replace things like her shoes or clothing when hers become too torn to use or to adjust to the changing seasons. Sometimes she visits just to sit next to the statue of her Ba and talk. 

She tells him stories about her travels. Recounts the time she heard a pair of fairy-bluebirds calling to one another in the forest or when a stampede of wild elephants had stomped across a mudplain when she was visiting her 16th river. 

She tells him about how lonely she gets sometimes. Only when Tuk Tuk is away searching for bugs to eat, of course, but she’ll share the way she misses real food and warm baths and the feeling of him combing through her hair in the morning. 

On days when the sunset is just a little too beautiful, the kind that he would have stopped everything he was doing just to stare at, her eyes will well up with tears and her voice will crack when she speaks to him. 

“It’s been months since I’ve heard my own name,” she once said. “It’s been longer since you called me Dew Drop.” 

Time becomes much harder to follow after so many days spent in the wild. She isn’t sure when her birthday passes, but she knows she missed it when she journeys into the heart of Talon to replace her torn vest, and catches word of New Years celebrations getting prepared. 

That night, as she watches fireworks flash across the night sky in mesmerizing bursts of color from the roof of Talon's massive palace, she allows herself to be selfish for _just_ a moment and starts a list.

Staring at those bursting lights, listening to Tuk Tuk’s ecstatic purrs at the sight, she lets out a carefree laugh and decides on at least one thing she’ll do once she finds Sisudatu and brings back her tribe:

_#1 Watch these fireworks, on this rooftop, shoulder to shoulder with her Ba._

* * *

Barely a reed’s distance away, beneath the Heart princess’s feet, another young girl is looking up at those same explosions. The brilliant purple and crimson hues cast off from the whirling sparks reflect sharply off of her mother’s silver hair. 

“I just don’t understand why we couldn’t stay in Fang for _Tết_ this year, _Mæ̀_ ,” Namaari says politely, doing her best to keep an edge of frustration from sharpening her tone. Her mother knows how much she hates going on these diplomatic missions, especially on what is normally such an exciting night in their tribe. 

All around her, Talon dignitaries are laughing raucously and recounting stories from the old year. Performers walk through the great hall, spinning ribbons and dancing to the booming music of a band playing somewhere in the room. 

This is the first party she’s been to since… 

Her mother turns away from the railing both are leaning against to face her. “Morning Mist, I’ve told you already. Our alliance with Talon is more important than ever now. This year has been… exceedingly difficult, and the people of Talon are the primary suppliers of the gunpowder we need if we are going to complete our canal. We need to maintain our relationship if we are to secure this deal with them. The _protection_ of our people is more important than _celebrating_ with them.” 

Namaari knows this already. She’s heard some version of it about three or four times now, but it doesn’t change the deep-seated discomfort that’s buried like a rambutan pit in her stomach. First she had to wear this _stupid_ outfit with it’s inefficient pointy shoulder pads, then, she couldn’t bring her serlot into the city so her companion is stuck waiting with the rest of their guard, then she found out that she was the only kid her age attending this study party, _and then_ she was being forced to eat stupid Talon food that doesn’t taste nearly as good as the food she had shared with—

No. She’s not going to think about her. Because if she thinks about her then she’ll have to think about that night. And if she thinks about that night she’ll have to think about the foot she had planted between the shoulder blades of her frien— her enem— _that girl._ And if she thinks about _that_ then she’ll think about an arrow flying through the air, then the splitting of a sacred relic, then a man turning into stone, and then she’ll think about running and running and _leaving her behind,_ and running away because she was so scared and praying that the smoke doesn’t touch her _Mæ̀_ —

So she’s just not going to think about it. 

Instead, she’ll think about this lame party and those lame musicians, and those lame danc— actually the dancers are pretty. Pretty cool! Very pleasing to watch. But because of their skill! Not like because of their long flowing hair and their carefree smiles and their billowing skirts that make it seem like they’re about to take flight with each step...

Anyways… 

She focuses back on her mother, on the creases between her eyes that seem to get deeper with each passing season. She knows that people everywhere are struggling after the loss of Heart, the largest producer of sugar cane and rice in the land. 

There had been talks about going back to try and salvage the farmland, to distribute the precious materials in the central city, but no kingdom had been able to stomach the thought of what would essentially be grave robbing. 

Few people had journeyed back to the towering tribe, but those who did spoke of the chilling silence. The heartbreaking sight of thousands of people now solid stone, adults and children, no one had been spared in the Kingdom of Heart. Barely a hundred had managed to make it out of the city in time. 

Namaari had asked her mother one day to check to see if Ray—that girl had survived. Her mother had simply brushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. She promised to let her know if she ever heard anything about the lost princess. 

That had been months ago. 

Namaari is many things, but optimistic isn’t one of them. 

Still, as she watches an impressive combination of fireworks go off, burts of shimmering amethyst and staggered spirals of golden light, she closes her eyes and prays that she’s safe. 

When the dazzling display ends, she almost imagines that she can hear her laugh. 


	3. What's a Meal Between Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why would he poison us!"   
> "First, to take my jade purse. Second, to steal my sword. And third," there's a pause there. Almost as if she were about to say something else, "I don't know-to kidnap my Tuk Tuk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I went through and I thought that it might be easier to read if there was better spacing between the paragraphs. Let me know if you agree, or if you prefer reading it with just the one space!

By the time Raya finishes searching the rivers near her homeland, she’s thirteen years old (probably) and so _so_ tired. Still, she can’t rest until her people are brought back and her tribe is restored. 

It’s also around this time that she runs into a problem. Until now, she’s been in areas that she knows her way around. Everything she’s faced has been a known danger. As she moves further and further away, however, she can no longer rely on her knowledge of the land for sleeping and finding food. Her brief visits back to Heart will also become unmanageable the farther away she travels. So after one last journey back home to grab as much jade as she can, and to lay a lotus flower at the feet of her father, she begins to make her way along the southwest coast of the river. 

By now, Tuk Tuk is less peach and more coconut as he rolls alongside her. His steady presence has kept her sane these past months, and she thanks the spirits every day for his unconditional support and unyielding friendship. 

The farther she goes from Heart, the deeper she gets into unsettled territory. Unsettled in the sense that the people here are less… legally inclined… than those from one of the 5 kingdoms. When she was younger, her father had forbidden her from journeying this far, and she can’t help the chill the courses through her at the memory of his warning. 

_“There’s a reason why the people who live to the west weren’t a part of the great dragon, weren’t a part of Kumandra, Raya. I pray every day that you never find out what that reason is.”_

Still, she has to keep moving if she has any hope of finding Sisudatu, and really, what’s the worst that can happen? 

The first town she comes across is small. Almost too small to really be called a town. It’s built into the river atop docks, similar to the way Talon’s own kingdom is structured. As she had walked through the surrounding woods, checking the river ends she had passed on the way, she had been struck by the amount of statues lining the area. It’s the amount of children, really, that disturbs her the most. While there are still adults, scattered around here and there, the woods are littered with statues that barely come up to her waist. Some are even smaller, no more than 1 or two years old, left petrified in the woods. Their tiny palms cupped upwards as if asking to be held. 

Still, she knows that the woods aren’t going to cut it tonight, and that she needs to find a real place to sleep in town. She hopes that the people there are nicer than anticipated, but something in her knows to prepare for the worst. Before she enters the town, she tells Tuk Tuk to stay hidden in a nearby cave. When she knows it’s safe, she’ll come back for him and her sword, after all, no reason to make them think of her as a threat. 

Raya makes her way onto the wooden bridge connecting the dirt to the floating shacks, and walks up the rickety boards into the middle of the settlement. Most of the houses are missing a piece or two, a side-wall here, a roof panel there. Long mudstained curtains hang in place of doorways and there are a handful of men and women sitting outside, just staring into space. 

The humming of insects rings in her ears as she approaches the woman nearest to her. 

“Um… excuse me? Ma’am? I was wondering if I could rent a room here for the night? I’m not messy, I don’t want any trouble or anything, and I’ll be out of your hair by the morning.” 

The woman is old, probably nearing the end of her life-cycle. Her skin stretches across her face like tight leather, splotches of patchy red skin run up the side of her jaw. The woman’s face is expressionless as she stares at Raya, but there’s a glimpse of something calculating in her gaze that causes a cold sweat to break out even in the burning daylight heat. Finally, the woman’s eyes squint closed and she peers up at her with a smile that’s more gum than teeth. 

“We don’t get travelers here often,” she begins in a light rasp. Raya can’t exactly place the accent, but the way the words lilt, how each syllable is almost sharp, causes that feeling of discomfort to only grow. “But that don’t mean I can’t make the room for a pretty little girl such as yourself. After all, what kind of person would I be if I left a child out in the night, alone? You can call me Bian.” 

Raya takes a second to weigh her options. On the one hand, she’s never been one to ignore her instincts, and her father _had_ warned her to be wary of these people, but on the other hand, her instincts had failed her spectacularly before and there was no way she could make it in this area on her own. 

“What’s your name dear.” Bian asks kindly, “Can’t just be calling you girl if you’re gonna be spending the night.” 

It’s been so long since someone said her name and she can’t help the sense of longing that blossoms in that moment. “Raya _—_ my name is Raya.” 

Mind made up, she smiles back, curls her hands into the customary greeting her father had taught her, and gently bows. Regardless of where the woman is from, she’s still her elder, and if there was one thing her father had taught her, it was the value of respect. “I am in your care.” 

* * *

After returning to get Tuk Tuk, and tucking him into her traveling satchel beneath her extra set of clothes, Raya gets herself settled into the small home. She left her father’s sword in the cavern, buried beneath a pile of leaves and moss. No reason to draw any more attention to herself than necessary. 

The quiet is still unsettling, but there’s nothing she can do about it now, and it’s nothing she can’t deal with. 

Afterall, she’s only there for the day. Tomorrow, she’s back to her search and off to find another town. The old woman, Bian, hobbles around her house and lays out an aged bamboo mat next to one of the holes in the wall.

“I’d offer you more but this is all that I got. Gonna have to just make do.”

“It’s more than enough. Thank you for your hospitality.” She responds. 

“Well, I’ll have supper on in a bit. Ain’t nothing fancy but it’ll fill you up.” Bian hobbles around the sparse kitchen area, picking up roots and spices as she moves. 

“Oh no I wouldn’t want to impose,” Raya politely states, though the idea of a warm meal does sound appealing. As much as her father loved to cook, she never quite took after him in that regard. “I have more than enough to eat.” 

“Nonsense! No child is gonna come into my home and leave tired and hungry!” 

She thinks about the hours she used to spend sitting in the kitchen with Eeya, watching as the bubbly chef would chop tamarinds for sinigang _,_ her favorite meal after hard training days. Raya would scurry around the kitchen on days when foreign dignitaries visited, watching as each cook would come to life trying to translate the history of Heart into the meals they served. 

_“When you share a meal with another, little one, you are saying ‘thank you’ and ‘I trust you’ at the same time.” Eeya shared as she heaved a bag of rice flour over one shoulder. “You can learn much about a person from what they choose to serve.”_

Her father always said to have faith in others, so ignoring any lingering feelings of hesitation, she smiles back at this woman who has so kindly opened her home to a stranger. “Well, so long as it’s really not a bother,” she finally concedes. 

They sit mainly in silence as Bian begins to cook. After some time, the old woman limps out of the house without a word. When Raya sees that she’s gone, she opens up her bag to find Tuk Tuk still hidden safely. 

The armadillo-pug blinks up sleepily at her as the light from the nearby candles and the mid-day sun seeps into the opening. Beneath him lies their chunk of the dragon gem, wrapped softy in cloth to keep the glow from being too obvious. 

“Just wanted to check in on you buddy,” she whispers to her still groggy companion. “You’re doing so great! After I eat I’ll find a way to save you something, ok? When she goes to sleep I’ll let you know and you can come out. Love you!” 

His only response is a slow nod and a wide yawn. Raya hears uneven steps nearing the thick curtain-like door and quickly closes her bag, smoothly rolling over to her previous spot. 

“Sorry dearie,” Bian steps into the room with a bowl and some spoons in hand, “like I said before, I don’t get a lot of company, and even less that stays for supper. I just had to stop over my neighbor’s house to borrow some things. If you wanna come over to the table now, I’ll pour you a nice bowl of my famous five-spice stew.” 

Raya walks over and picks one of two chairs at the small tabletop. The wood is rotted in some places, probably from the rain that she imagines might pour through the hole directly above them on stormy nights. Near where she sits, tiny lines seem to be etched into the table. For a second, she places her hand atop the wood curiously to trace the marks but pauses at how her fingers seem to fit perfectly atop the grooves. There’s a brief moment of confusion, but before she can think too deeply about it, a bowl is dropped in front of her and the scent of cloves, curry, cinnamon, ginger, and something… softer fills the air. She can’t quite place it, but the smell is enough to make her mouth water. The sight of the first real meal she’s seen in months brushes away any other thoughts and she turns to her hostess with a grateful smile. 

“This looks amazing Bian, thank you so much.” 

Bian has settled into the spot across from her, dropping her cane to the floor with a startling bang. She sighs softly and places her own bowl of the deep currant-colored broth gently across the table. Grabbing a spoon, the woman takes a spoonful and slurps it loudly between chapped lips. 

“Ahhh-nothing soothes the soul quite like a warm meal between new friends.” 

Raya watches her take a couple more sips before grabbing her own spoon. Her first sip is magical. The stew is the perfect blend of spicy and savory, lingering pleasantly along her tongue. She takes a startled breath before beginning to inhale the bowl in front of her. When she finishes her serving, she beams at the older woman. 

“That was delicious Bian! Thank you so much for the meal.” She wipes sweat off her brow as she continues. _‘Huh, it must have been spicier than she thought.’_

“I could taste four of the spices, but I couldn’t quite figure out what that last one was?” She watches as the woman across from her sets down her own spoon to answer her question. Raya ignores the tickle in her throat that signals the start of a cough. She puffs as quietly as she can into her elbow, trying her best not to be rude. When she glances back up, Bian is staring at her intently. What had been the gentle, squint-eyed smile of a kind old woman had slipped into something colder. Almost… amused. 

Raya tries not to think too much into it, but when her vision starts to swirl and her head begins to feel foggy, like the time she tried too much of the pomegranate wine an ambassador from Fang had left her father one summer, she can’t help the panic that starts to swell. 

Bian is still smiling. Eyes just looking down at Raya as she coughs rack her small frame. “Oh, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, dearie. It’s a town secret.” 

Everything feels too hot, too hot, _too hot._ She’s drowning, but she’s thirsty, and she’s choking, but there’s nothing in her mouth, and why can’t she stop _sweating,_ why is everything so _warm_ all of a sudden. She tries to stand, but her legs buckle beneath her and she ends up crashing into the ground with a heavy ‘ _thump.’_ She tries to get back up, but no matter how hard she tries, it’s like trying to swim against a riptide. Inevitably, she knows she’ll get sucked down. 

Still, she twists her head to look up at Bian, but when she catches sight of the woman, it’s no longer the same aged face looking back. Instead, the smiling eyes, rounded cheeks, and youthful complexion of a familiar cook stare back. When she opens her mouth and kneels down, the motion of her lips doesn’t align with what she says. 

_“You can learn much about a person from what they choose to serve.”_

When she blinks her captor wears a new face, a younger face. Sharper eyes glance back, the right hidden by a curtain of pin-straight hair, but the hand that traces against her cheek is much too rough, the nails too long. 

_“Rice or stew“_ When had Raya opened her mouth?

_“This is actually one of the first times I've had rice in a while. Fang may look nice on the outside but we have some pretty big holes on the inside.”_

She looks to the door and in walks another man. She tries to ask for help, but her thoughts are too scrambled. Just choking gasps manage to escape her. When she looks up at him, her neck twitching at the shift, her breath gets caught for another reason. 

_“We’re not going to poison them, and we’re not going to fight them. We’re going to share a meal with them.”_ Her father’s face gazes at her with pity, but his mouth is unmoving. Everything is so loud. _'Ba'_ she wants to scream _'help me please!'_

" _We're going to poison them._ stop. We're _going to poison you._ please. _Pretty on the outside, holes on the inside._ stop talking. Share _a meal, Raya. Rice or Stew Raya. It's just five spices. What's the fifth? That's a secret._ I trusted you. You _can learn much about a person from what they choose to share, Raya._ Everything is getting so mixed up, everything is blending together. What was in that soup? 

“ _Lemon grass from Heart, palm sugar from Fang—”_ She knows that isn’t right. That’s not the recipe _—_

She can only make out fragments of sentences. “ _..._ taking _…_ long! _—_ Why is she… don’t tell me it… too soon! _—_ Need to crush… for next time.” 

_“There’s a reason why the people who live to the west weren’t a part of the great dragon, weren’t a part of Kumandra, Raya.”_

And then everything 

_d_

_i_

_s_

_s_

_o_

_l_

_v_

_e_

_s._


	4. And All the Star Wept For These Heavy Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First, a quick trip to Fang. Then, back to the wild.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone who read, commented, or left kudos on this work, it really means the world to me to know that there are people who like my writing! That's all :D

Things had been tense in Fang ever since the shattering of the dragon gem, and anyone could see that the strained intertribal relations and rising food scarcity were taking an especially heavy toll on the royal family. Namaari, once a shy but happy child, grew more reserved and stone-faced each day. It pained them all to see a girl so young walk around with such an immense but invisible burden hanging to her shoulders. Still, she and her mother kept their heads up and devoted every day, every second to the growth of Fang, and the people of Fang were in turn devoted to them. 

So when the young warrior suddenly hisses in pain and clutches at her forehead as she’s walking from her end-of-day training to meet her mother for dinner, everyone around is understandably concerned.

“Princess!” a young woman passing by exclaims, “are you alright?”

Namaari was not, in fact, alright.

If anything, she only seems to be getting worse with each second. Vaguely, Namaari hears someone yell for the Queen, but she is too focused on the sudden onslaught of pain bombarding her senses to pay much attention. Her head is _pounding,_ but she doesn’t know why. Nobody had hit her too hard, or any harder than normal at least, during training, and this wasn’t the usual hunger headache that she got when she was too busy to eat lunch. 

No. This was something completely different and so much worse. 

_‘Oh no,’_ she feels her eyes begin to well up, _‘please don’t start crying. Please tell me you’re not about to start crying in the middle of town.’_

The idea that her people might see her break down only serves to make her more panicked, which only seems to bring more tears, and Namaari can’t seem to stop the unbelievably _frustrating_ cycle. 

What might have been minutes or hours passes before she catches a glimpse of her mother kneeling down in front of her. The end of her m _æ̀_ ’s white dress becomes coated in dirt from touching the unclean floor, and Namaari almost tells her this before another white-hot flash of pain shoots through her skull. 

“Morning mist, my darling, _please_ ,” Namaari doesn’t think her mother has ever sounded this concerned, “tell me what’s wrong. Where are you hurt?”

And that right there might be the worst part of this. Because Namaari could easily say that it’s her head that’s the problem, just one too many sleepless nights finally catching up with her, but subconsciously, she knows that’s not right. 

  
No. If anything, there’s some part of her that knows, almost instinctively, that this pain isn’t fully her own. Even thinking that makes her feel crazy, and she knows that there is no possible way she could somehow explain a feeling that she doesn’t even understand herself. And then, all of a sudden, it vanishes, and all she's left with is the lingering notion that there _had_ been this unfathomable sensation only moments before. 

For one of the first times in her life, she has no idea what to say to her mother. So instead, she settles on the easiest thing she can verbalize right now. 

“I don’t know, mæ̀. I _don't know_ _.”_

* * *

When Raya regains consciousness, it feels like a Spine warrior has taken one of their axes and attempted to split her skull in two. She’s lying face down in the mud, tremors still wracking her body, and when tries to reach for her eyes, she realizes that her arms are tightly bound behind her back. As she spits out bits of dirt and grass, she can faintly still taste blood and curry, oddly, not the worst combination. 

She still can’t take a deep breath, and her throat feels like she’s just tried to gargle a cup of sand, but at least the coughing has stopped. Her sweat-soaked clothes stick uncomfortably to her body and as she stirs a new voice sounds from above her. 

“Ah… most don’t wake up this quickly.” She looks to the left and sees an older man sitting cross-legged atop a small mound of dirt. “Then again, we weren’t supposed to leave another offering for a couple of weeks at _least_. Bian knew we didn’t have nearly enough root ground up to knock you out for long, but that woman just does what she wants.” He tosses out a hand as if to say ‘what can you do’ and makes an almost disappointed noise at his own words. 

“Of-” her voice rasps, “offering?” 

She wishes she were imagining the crazed gleam in his eye as he speaks. “Why _,_ to the _Druun_ of course! How else are we supposed to please their spirits?” There’s an almost fanatical edge in his voice as he says this. As if every word makes complete sense and she’s the one in the dark. Raya sits up as much as her ribs will allow, and tries to get a better look around. 

Everything is slowly starting to make sense. Those statues she had found, the children without parents. Bodies stretching all along the perimeter of this town. Bile begins to rise in her throat, and she’s not sure if it's the remnants of the poison they had clearly somehow slipped into her bowl, or if it’s just the horror pooling in her stomach as he talks. 

“W-why...why would you _—why would you want to please their spirits?”_ By now, the sun is setting and the sky is starting to glow a sickly crimson, the color of a festering wound, of cinnamon-spiced stew, of blood gushing out of an arrow lodged in a thigh. The shadows of the trees around her stretch into distorted fingers, their inky blackness only highlighted by the stark redness of the world around them, and it's as if the forest is reaching out to her, as if it wants to drag her into its depths and never let go. 

“The Druun are the true gods of humanity, and they are a god of vengeance and wrath! They came to humble us so that we may escape the promises of false idols, _false_ gods like the _dragons._ They were angered by our hubris, the depravity of humanity, and that's why they returned! _Humans_ are the true plague, and it is our duty, our _obligation,_ to demonstrate our submission to Druun. So… we leave them sacrifices! To prove our _obedience_! Our _fealty_! _”_

As he says this, he stands and throws his arms into the air, as if overcome by some invisible passion. The world around them is awash in furious hues of scarlet and rust, and then, as if someone had blown out the sun like a candle, the entire forest is enveloped in darkness. 

In the absence of light, Raya seems to find the strength to respond. “Why would you say that! The dragons are our protectors, they gave their lives to _save_ us from those monsters! Why would you turn away from their teachings and their sacrifice? Away from the history of your people. You and your village are the depraved ones, leaving babies to get turned into stone, killing those who turn to you for help!” Raya can’t help the hate and anger that seeps into every word. She’s never been so horrified. 

“Tell me Raya, if your dragons are so powerful, so deserving of your praise, then _where are they?”_ The man’s words spill from his lips like sewage. “Where are your dragon’s little girl? Why don’t you call out to them to save you? Try all you might, your fantasy of being rescued by some benevolent myth is never going to happen. And while you play make-believe, the rest of us will have to make due in reality! The dragons are gone and the Druun are here, Raya. And guess what, _they’re hungry.”_

He laughs and waves at something behind her, and she scrambles to twist so she can look behind herself. 

She can barely make out the silhouettes of the men and women sitting on the dock, watching the scene unfolding in front of them like some holy rite. The bridge is still pulled out, likely so that the man in front of her can run back to safety when the Druun comes, too much of a coward to risk his own life, to sacrifice himself. 

Suddenly, the whole forest quiets. The buzzing that had been almost non-stop since she had arrived was gone. The only thing she can hear is the heavy breathing of the man above her. He begins to stand, and the thought of being left alone sends a wave of strength through her. 

“ _Wait!”_ she screams. “Please—please don’t leave me! Please! I’ll do anything! I’m only a kid! I haven’t even lived yet! Please! I still need to see my _Ba_ again! My people need me! There’s still so much I need to do, so much I haven’t done! _I’ve never even kissed a girl! Please._ Don’t kill me before I’ve even had a chance to live! _”_

She knows her father would be disgusted to see her beg like this. On her knees, face a mess of snot and tears, nothing like the proud guardian he had raised, but she doesn’t care. Right now, all that matters is that she’s going to die. She’s actually about to die. All alone. Hungry. Tired. In pain. 

And how sad is that? When she tries to think about her life, the 13 (probably closer to 14 at this point) short years that she has existed on this earth, she can’t think of a single thing she has contributed to the world, to her people. All she’s done so far is manage to ruin everything good in her life. Her existence has objectively made everyone worse off, and it’s the thought of dying before she can fix her mistakes, bring back those taken by the Druun, that sends another shiver of panic down her spine. 

  
This can’t be it. 

For a brief moment, it seems like her plea might have struck something in him. He pauses for a second, and she imagines that his mask of devotion has cracked for just a second before he turns back around. 

Instead, a cruel smile paints his lips. “You chose the wrong gods, Raya.” And then he’s gone. Up the bridge and onto the wooded dock. 

Raya lays frozen, tears still streaming silently down her cheeks. Her shoulders are hurting from the way they’re tired behind her back, but no matter how hard she tries, she can’t get them loose. Around her wrist, she can feel the rope cutting into her skin, the wounds weeping alongside her. The sun has set already, the world around her pitch black.

Try as she might, she can’t even see the stars. 

Her last thoughts spin through her skull like a whirlpool of emotion. Memories of everything she still wanted to do are dripping in regret. Her grief over the fact that she’ll truly never see her father's smile one more time is a tidal wave that crashes over her again and again and _again_. The guilt from not being able to save her people like she had promised barrages her like a hurricane, each drop of rain a life that she had ruined. She’s filled with anger at these people who would disrespect everything she holds so precious, her history, the lives of others, the trust that others placed in them. And finally, a splash of disappointment creeps through her as she thinks about the fact that she will never fall in love. 

With everything that had happened, the return of the Druun, the consequent quest for Sisu, the constant struggle to survive, her old dreams had been left in the dust of her lavish past. But in this moment, as everything comes into focus, her heart aches at the fact that she had never fallen head over heels for another. 

A name and face flash through her mind. She ignores them both. 

She wonders if what she is about to experience is truly death, or just a pause in life. If she is to really die, then she guesses that there would have been no bringing back those already turned to stone anyways. Then, at least, she will be able to see her father in the afterlife. 

It’s the second part that scares her more. The idea that her consciousness will simply remain trapped in a cold, hard, tomb of rock. Neither aware nor existing. Nothing more than a stone tossed into a lake on a hot summer day and left to sink into oblivion. 

_‘Well,’_ she laughs to herself bitterly, _‘I guess I’m about to find out.’_

Then, two things happen at once. 

The purple mist of the Druun begins to pour into the clearing in front of her, billowing out deceptively softly across the dirt. 

And… 

A rolling noise begins to echo out from near the dock, the sounds of a shell on wood cutting through the silence of the night. 

Just as it seems like the Druun is about to swallow her in its violet maw, Tuk Tuk comes sailing through the air, her bag trailing behind him. In a flash, he’s falling onto the ground in front of her, and out spills the dragon gem from where it was wrapped up. The Druun lurches away as if struck, and Tuk Tuk wastes no time in biting through the restraints wrapped around her wrist and torso with his deceptively sharp teeth. 

As soon she's free, she takes a stumbling step towards the shining blue light of the gemstone, and before the Druun can try to attack again, she lifts it above her and her friend. Amidst the darkness of the night, the oppressive blackness surrounding them, the gem shines like a beacon of hope, and the Druun seems to roar in anger at the sight of it. 

Only, it’s not just the Druun. She looks back towards the dock and sees the villagers standing, outraged at this turn of events. Her arms are burning, the unknown poison still coursing through her system. Even just holding up the stone is shooting hot flashes of pain down her forearms. 

But her pain doesn’t matter, because Tuk Tuk had just saved her life. Had come rolling in like her guardian angel, despite how afraid she knows he must have been. The least she can do is make sure that they make it out of here. 

So, teeth gritted, eyes narrowed, left hand grasping her bag and right hand wrapped tightly around the gem, Raya pushes herself to her feet and _runs._ She doesn’t know where it comes from, but all of a sudden there’s this _burst_ of energy. 

She pounds her way through the trees, tripping over roots and stumbling in the darkness. She doesn't know where she's going, all she knows is that she has to get away, leave, get as far from here as possible. Every step hurts more than the last, but she refuses to stop. Stopping right now means the difference between life and death, the difference between her _Ba’s_ life and remaining a statue forever. 

Every couple of feet, she checks to make sure that Tuk Tuk is still beside her and is relieved to see that he’s easily keeping pace. 

Her heart pounds against her ribcage like a herd of wild banteng being chased by a rabid tiger. Predator and prey. Because that’s all anyone was in the wild. 

All she is now. 

She thanks every spirit she can think of that the town she chose was mainly just a bunch of old people. Granted, they were kidnapping, child-murdering, old people, but those qualities didn’t make them any faster. By the time she makes it to another body of water, a small pond that seems shallow enough to be without predators, but deep enough to rest in, the village has faded away into the darkness of night. 

Raya places Tuk Tuk on her shoulder, crawls into the water until it reaches her hips, and satisfied at the depth and the distance between them and the dry land, she sits down and allows herself to rest. 

And just as soon as that strange energy had arrived, it vanishes like wisps of smoke from a dying campfire. Though the cool water helps to soothe some of the lighter aches, the thin cuts across her face and arms from plowing through bushes and reeds, everything just feels like _too much._

Her wrists burn from her struggles against the rope for so long, her throat aches from the coughing fit the poison had induced, and her chest isn’t faring much better. Plus, with all the running, she’s fairly certain that she’s torn something. 

‘ _Somethings_.’ she chuckles dryly as her back, knees, and shoulders burn in protest. 

Still, as she looks up at the sky, so much brighter here than it had been just a mile away, she can’t help the smile that cracks across her face. Tuk Tuk shifts gently atop her shoulder, his comforting growls vibrating pleasantly along her neck. 

“Thanks buddy,” She knows he understands that it’s for more than just the impromptu comfort. The deadpan look he shoots her way and the underlying layer of fondness is all the message she needs. 

_‘It’s you and me,’_ His eyes say, _‘I have your back, and you have mine, remember?’_

She lets out a short huff of agreement and turns her head back up towards the stars. 

“We’re alive.” 

* * *

Not even 2 minutes later, a curse is hissed out between gritted teeth. 

“ _Pakshet!_ The sword!” 


	5. In My Dreams We Were Smiling (Oh How Waking Burns)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When we start crossing lines, sometimes who we used to be becomes indistinguishable from the ash left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh!! So many people read and commented and left kudos on the last couple of chapters and I just wanted to say thank you again to everyone who's been following the story. The fact you all seem to be theorizing and having fun reading this really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy this new chapter too!!

When the sun begins to crest over the horizon, Raya too rises to prepare for the new day. Her legs are stiff from shifting from kneeling to standing to sitting for hours on end. Her clothes are soaked, and what had once been a comforting chill was now a burning cold. Her teeth chattered whenever the breeze would drift by, and her body was still feeling the effects of whatever Bian slipped into her meal. 

She began to walk out of the water, joints cracking intermittently. Once she was out, Tuk Tuk hopped down from her shoulder and stretched out his stubby legs. She reached into her bag, thankfully waterproof, and was pleased to see that her change of clothes was still mostly dry. 

She doesn’t waste any time in switching out of her drenched bindings and replacing her outfit. Once she’s ready, they begin the slow journey back to the village so that she can collect the things she left nearby. 

It’s a slow process. Raya has to stop frequently to catch her breath and rest her shaky legs. By the time they make it back to the cave, it takes every ounce of strength not to just collapse. She reaches the patch of moss that she had used to cover her things and is overwhelmed with relief at the sight of her father’s sword, untouched, next to a small pile of jade pieces and the ceremonial items she had hidden. 

At the sight of all of her belongings, Raya’s knees finally buckle in and she hits the ground like a sack of rice. Tuk Tuk rolls around to face her, but when he looks at her prone form, he just turns around and faces the mouth of the cave. A small but capable sentry, should anyone try to disturb them. 

Raya weighs her options. 

On the one hand, the town is barely a quarter-mile away, and at any moment a Druun could come bursting into the cave to turn her to stone. 

On the other, she doesn’t think she’s capable of moving. She takes a deep breath, focuses on moving her arm, and—

Yeah. 

She’s not going anywhere. 

Instead, she places her trust once again in her friend, the friend that’s protected her more times than she can count, and finally, mercifully, drifts off to sleep. 

* * *

_ She knows that she’s dreaming in the way that a person might feel the phantom pain of a lost limb. Though her brain may try to convince her otherwise, she knows that a moment like this isn’t hers anymore. It’s nothing more than a rotting foot that got caught in a bear trap and had to be sawed off.  _

_ Nothing but something that brings her pain.  _

_ But knowing that she’s dreaming and wanting to leave are two completely different things. Because right now, as she sits at a dinner table with her Ba, Eeya, and Namaari, she can’t find it in her to care. They are in her favorite garden by the palace, the one that seems to be perpetually in bloom and that lets in just the right amount of sunlight. The four of them are laughing at something she can’t quite remember, something she can’t quite put into words. Whatever it is though, it’s making the lines around her Ba’s eyes crinkle in the best way, and Namaari’s twinkling giggle is music to her ears.  _

_ Eeya is serving up plates of rice, and each of them takes one from the lovely chef with a smile.  _

_ “All right everyone, I hope you enjoy my FAMOUS coconut rice with just a hint of ginger!” She exaggerates the words in a way that only such a talented chef can. _

_ Raya gasps. Eeya’s coconut rice is just too die for and she can’t help the feeling that it’s been something she’s craved for weeks. She makes eye contact with Namaari who looks so content just sitting with them in the moment that it makes Raya go soft with affection.  _

_ (Raya ignores the acidic voice that’s raging at the sight of the other girl. The voice that threatens to break through this idyllic scene and remind her why moments like these are impossible now. Why would she want to ruin such a perfect moment?) _

_ Her Ba picks up his spoon and takes a huge bite.  _

_ “Delicious as always Eeya, my sincerest compliments to the chef!” She groans at his poor attempt for a joke but inwardly is glowing at the sight of him so happy.  _

_ Namaari takes a smaller taste of the rice, and her tiny smile is all Raya needs to see to know that she too is enjoying the meal.  _

_ Eeya takes a seat next to her, serves up a heaping portion of rice for herself, and settles into her chair with an overstated puff of exhaustion.  _

_ “So Raya, what’d it feel like?” She asks, before eating a large spoonful of the sweet dish.  _

_ Raya pauses the raise of her spoon to her lips. Her brow quirks in confusion. “What do you mean?”  _

_ Eeya continues chewing, “I mean” she swallows, “what’d it feel like to almost die?”  _

_ Raya freezes. “What?” Her spoon hits her plate.  _

_ Namaari chimes in, halfway finished with her own serving. “Yeah Raya! How did it feel? Did it hurt? Did you wanna cry?” The questions are shared with an easy curiosity, as if she were merely asking for her favorite animal or her favorite color.  _

_ Her Ba wipes his mouth politely with a napkin before contributing. “Were you relieved maybe? Grateful that someone was finally going to put you out of your misery?”  _

_ Why would he say that? Of course she wasn’t. She had a mission. She was going to bring everyone back, no matter how long it took!  _

_ “What are you all talking about? Stop asking these stupid questions so we can eat.” Raya just wants to stay here for just a little longer, just ignore her problems and sit and eat sweet rice with the people she loves.  _

_ Plus Namaari, she guesses.  _

_ She picks up her spoon again, about to shovel food into her mouth, before Eeya speaks again.  _

_ “Are you sure?”  _

_ “Sure of what?” She responds. _

_ “Are you sure you want to eat that?” _

_ And Raya freezes. She stares at the rice, the pure white pile of fluff on her spoon, and as her hand begins to shake, the small granules tumble off and back onto her plate. Except her plate is now a familiar-looking bowl, chipped in the corner and filled with a deep red stew. The table is older, and when she looks at the wood, she can see those scratches she had been so transfixed by. The markings left by other victims attempting to put up some kind of fight in their last moments.  _

_ She raises her head to look at her companions, all three taking sips from the rice-turned-soup. She wants them to stop, to spit back the food, but it’s as if she’s been glued to her chair, her mouth wired shut. She just has to watch as each of them finishes their bowls. And then they all calmly look at her.  _

_ Slowly, her father begins to cough. He’s followed shortly by Namaari, and Eeya comes next. Their solemn gazes don’t leave her own until they physically can’t keep their heads raised. Raya is crying at this point, but she still can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as one by one their bodies start to convulse, their heads smack against the table, and then they all fall still.  _

_ She sits, surrounded by their bodies, praying, begging, to wake up. No matter how hard she tries, though, she’s stuck sitting in her chair, watching their bodies lay unmoving all around her. She doesn’t know how long she sits there, just staring at their bodies. She knows it was far too long.  _

_ It seems even in her dreams, she can’t find peace.  _

* * *

She wakes for the second time, drenched in sweat and in pain. 

The vivid images from her dream flash behind her eyelids, and she quickly rolls over and vomits the little food that she had left in her system. She is nearly sick again when the taste of cinnamon and curry coats her tongue beneath the acidic taste of her own vomit. 

The dream is already starting to fade from memory, but the way that it made her feel is still coursing through her body. And what makes her angry is that Namaari was there, invading her thoughts and acting as if she belonged with her family. Why would she care if some backstabbing  _ binturi  _ poisoned herself or enjoy one of her favorite meals? Why did the sound of her easy laughter make her feel so  _ warm _ ? 

And then it hits her, the message her subconscious had been trying to share. She didn’t stop anything, she just barely saved herself.  In fact, she didn’t even save herself. Tuk Tuk saved her. And now she knows what’s going on and she’s doing absolutely nothing to stop it.  If she leaves, the next person that the village kidnaps (and she  _ knows _ , with a kind of resigned surety, that there  _ will be  _ a next one) will be her fault. She knows what’s happening, and she can either do something about it or try and stop them from ever hurting anyone else the way they had hurt her. 

Still, what can she even do? No one cares what happens in unsettled territory. There are no laws to apply to the people here, no unified sense of morality to appeal to. She looks at her father's sword for just a moment and flinches away at the thought that had almost crossed her mind. 

No. 

She can’t just station herself outside the village, warning everyone to stay away. She’s on a mission, and every second she wastes is a second longer that she doesn’t ever get back with her Ba. But she has to do something! Her father would never have abandoned others to such a horrible fate, so she can’t either. 

_ ‘Or’  _ a smaller, darker voice proposes,  _ ‘you could just leave. Everyone you love is already a statue, your people are all already frozen in time. Why should you have to help those from other tribes? What have they ever done for you besides fight one another and leave you behind as collateral? Maybe they deserve this.’ _

She thinks of babies with their hands cupped upwards, cold and alone, and thinks  _ ‘they didn’t deserve that.’  _

But, a plan starts to piece itself together in her mind. And while she knows her father would disapprove, would call it cruel, would be horrified to know that his daughter could even put together this kind of idea, a cold, resentful,  _ angry  _ part of herself just calls it  _ fair.  _

With renewed strength, she grabs her belongings and makes her way back to the den of Druun worshipers, collecting dry twigs, brittle leaves, and crumbling tall grass as she walks. After tonight, they won’t be causing problems for anyone else, hopefully ever again. By the time the sun has set, and the people are all settling into their homes for the night, Raya is positioned like a ghost in the woods just out of sight of the town. 

A part of her hesitates about what she’s about to do. 

She’s scared of the larger part that doesn’t. 

Raya waits until she’s sure that everyone is gone before creeping her way onto the wooden platform. Years of training moving her body on autopilot as she hangs around the village’s support beams. She’s careful to stay out of the murky water, unsure of the dangers that lurk in the mysterious depths, and manages to swing her way onto the far side of the small village. 

Then, it’s time to put her plan into action. She builds piles using her assortment of dried goods at each corner of the town first, and once there are enough positioned she grabs the matches she normally would use during her prayer ceremonies for Sisu to light them all, one by one by one. 

She sprints along the dock, steps still heavier than normal, the burst of fear at being caught, getting trapped in the flames, keeps the lingering pain from crippling her. 

By the time she’s finished and positioned high behind the branches of a towering tree, the villagers are beginning to walk out of their houses, clearly confused by the smell of smoke. That confusion quickly turns to panic at the sight of the fast-spreading flames hungrily devouring the floating city. Some scramble for buckets to try to put them out, but by now it's too late. 

This time, the night burns red for a different reason. 

As everyone pours out of their homes trying to escape the smoke, they are forced to make a choice. Stay and burn alive or leave and try to outrun the Druun already encircling the area. Just like she suspected, the noise and light had dragged a massive swarm to their location. 

Raya hopes that she didn’t miscalculate their priorities, because, as much as she  _ hates  _ them all for what they tried to do to her, already did to so many others, she doesn’t think she could stomach the thought of knowing that she had killed someone. 

_ ‘If you can’t find Sisu, if you can’t reverse this, you might as well have.’  _ But no. That doesn’t matter. Because she’s  _ going  _ to find Sisu. She’s  _ going  _ to bring back her Ba and her people. It’s a perfect plan. Once she brings back Sisu and the dragon uses her magic to bring everyone back, the villagers will be returned as well. And with the Druun gone, they’ll no longer be a threat to anyone else. 

So long as they choose to run. 

When they make the choice to try their luck on the dry land, she’s relieved. And as she watches them get swallowed by the lurking Druun, she can’t help the simmering sense of satisfaction that arises at the sight. 

With the dragon gem tucked safely into her hand, and Tuk Tuk laid out right alongside her, she watches as one by one, they’re turned to stone.

Some manage to make it out past the heavily swarming Druun, but most are too old, too frail, to make it much farther. She watches as their screams are swallowed up in purple smoke and their wrinkled features are smoothed beneath gray rock. Her father had told her that a warrior, a guardian must always be willing to accept the consequences of their actions. Must always see through what they start. So she watches and listens as men and women are swallowed indiscriminately and shouts of terror fade into the still quietness of night. 

Raya doesn’t fall asleep again. She doesn’t think she could manage facing her father right now, his look of horror because of what she had done, imaginary or not. 


End file.
